


Behind the Cloth Door

by Unbidden_Angel



Category: MASH (TV)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-19
Updated: 2014-08-19
Packaged: 2018-02-13 21:36:34
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,202
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2166018
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Unbidden_Angel/pseuds/Unbidden_Angel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Everyone has a secret, even a man of the cloth.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Behind the Cloth Door

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I don't own M*A*S*H.
> 
> This is based on the show, but unfortunately I haven’t seen all the episodes and it’s been a few years since I’ve seen it so I’m going from memory.
> 
> As always feel free to comment or point out mistakes.

Trapper returns from post-OP and flops on his bed with what may have been a mumbled greeting. A moment later and two thumps sound, Trapper having kicked his boots off before the sound of his creaking cot signifies that the curly blond has curled up under his thin covers. Hawkeye waits another five minutes for the soft snores to sound like clockwork.

He lets out a quiet chuckle and shakes his head, peering out of the tent to insure that Frank isn’t going to come around the corner any time soon. With a fleeting glance at Trapper, out cold and under the blanket, Hawkeye lets the door shut softly and casually wonders to another tent.

He knocks and looks around while he waits, gasping when he’s pulled in and he nearly loses his balance. An arm wraps around his waist to steady him and a warm chuckle fills his ear. “Sorry about that Hawkeye.”

He grins and turns eagerly, pressing kisses to Mulcahy’s cheeks and already working on the Chaplin’s buttons.

Mulcahy chuckles again and latches the door, removing Hawkeye’s shirts and tossing them to the floor. He kisses along Hawkeye’s shoulders, nibbling at his collar bone.

Hawkeye shivers and pushes the Chaplin’s top to the floor. His eyes wonder along his front, hands quick to follow.

Mulcahy hums and nips, easing them onto the floor where he’d piled the softest things he could find. Despite being uncomfortable and having left more than one bruise on their backs it was still preferable to Mulcahy’s cot.

Hawkeye sighs and pulls him down into a kiss. Mulcahy allows it, letting the darker-haired man draw it out as long as he wants. He runs a hand down his side to squeeze his thigh and Hawkeye brings his knees up, spreading his legs for the blond.

Deft fingers work open Hawkeye’s pants and toss them to the side carelessly, followed quickly by his boxers. The brunette reaches down to return the favor only to have the Chaplin swat his hands away. Hawkeye scowls at him, making the blond chuckle, before gasping softly when those same fingers find his nipple and twists.

Hawkeye arches into it, groaning when Mulcahy latches onto the other nipple and sucks hard.

Fingers commonly used to wield scalpels dig into Mulcahy’s sides, scratching lightly to make the man huff a laugh. The Chaplin pulls him into another soft kiss, deepening it slowly while he works his own pants to his knees and reaches for a bottle of oil he’d set aside.

Hawkeye gives him a wicked smirk and brings Mulcahy’s fingers to his mouth, lapping at them before drawing them in. He sucks and nips lightly, teasing him as much as he can while wetting them thoroughly. Mulcahy groans and grinds against his hip. “Don’t tease Hawk. Not right now.”

Hawkeye laughs and releases his fingers. “I’ll suck you off later then?”

Mulcahy murmurs his name in reprimand and blushes but doesn’t try to discourage him. Instead, he focuses on teasing Hawkeye’s entrance before slicking them with the oil and easing two in.

Hawkeye hisses and fists the thin Army blanket, glaring at the faint smirk Mulcahy tried and failed to hide. He grumbles and shifts around, glaring at the tent-ceiling and trying to block out the burn.

Mulcahy chuckles and works on opening the darker haired man open, teasing his prostate and rubbing his walls. He has to swallow a groan when Hawkeye starts begging, holding himself back from just sinking into the writhing, trembling man beneath him. He bites his lip and slowly adds a fourth finger just to draw it out, dick jumping when Hawkeye sobs in pleasure.

A stream of “please” “John” “oh fuck yes” “more” and “right there oh please John now?” spills from Hawkeye’s lips in a tangled jumble, at times not even making sense. Mulcahy huffs an amazed laugh, caught between wanting to sink into his partner and pound him screaming, and wanting to draw it out until Hawkeye is a wanton mess.

Mulcahy had only been able to push him to that point once, but he’d barely been able to so much as be in the same tent as the other man without nearly bursting his zipper for weeks afterwards. Unfortunately, Hawkeye wasn’t exactly quiet and they could get caught and he didn’t want to chance Hawkeye being caught dazed and spaced out on his floor should anyone decide to suddenly confess.

He rakes his eyes up and down the other man before he gives a mental shrug and decides to do it anyway. He continues to work his fingers inside his lover, his free hand rubbing Hawkeye’s thigh and stroking his erection occasionally, squeezing the base when he thinks the other man might cum.

He hushes him when Hawkeye’s whines turn into choked curses and sobs of “damn it John in me now!” He has to kiss him when Hawkeye starts to chant “in me in me in me” and deepens it when Hawkeye starts waxing poetic (surprising well) about how it’d feel to have Mulcahy fill him with his “holy seed.”

Once Hawkeye has been reduced to a steady stream of pleased, wanting sounds and the occasional murmured word, Mulcahy pulls away and slicks himself. Hawkeye keens and rolls his hips, fists white-knuckled in the blankets. Mulcahy kisses along his neck and jaw, making comforting sounds and soft promises while he grinds against the wet hole he wants to sink into so desperately.

Hawkeye’s legs wrap around his waist and he slowly unclenches the abused cloth to cling to Mulcahy and it’s only then that the blond starts pushing in. Hawkeye is breathing his name over and over again into his ear, sounding like a prayer and a curse all at once and Mulcahy has to bite his shoulder to muffle his appreciative moan.

He stills for barely a second before thrusting and building his pace slowly. Hawkeye doesn’t seem to notice, only able to beg for more and make those sweet little sounds that made all of this worth the chance of getting caught.

Mulcahy closes his eyes to concentrate solely on the feel and sound of his lover, and then he is pushing himself to his hands and watching the surgeon, committing it all to memory. Before long Hawkeye is arching, nails biting into his back and eyes wide when he finally cums silently. Mulcahy groans and grips his hips tightly, slamming in hard and quick, watching Hawkeye come down and stay limp and unresponsive in his grip.

A moment of worry before it is swallowed up by lust and then Mulcahy is letting go and using him in a way that Hawkeye would have complained about were he aware. A few more punishing thrusts and Mulcahy bites him again to stifle his sound of completion, hips moving lazily while he rides out his orgasm until he slips out and flops on his side. He watches the other man for a moment before chuckling and pulling him against him, tugging a blanket over them and keeping watch until Hawkeye snaps out of it. In the meantime he kisses his face softly and pets him soothingly, already planning their next meeting.


End file.
